Never Been Kissed

- SEVEN -

                                                                    -• SEVEN •-

“Hey Amber!” Beck waved at me as I sat on the shoreline, with Opal in my lap, trying to tug her cap down over her head in earnest.

Opal had too much hair for a little kid, and I’d rolled and rolled her waist length braid to no avail. The bright pink, silicone cap kept slipping off.

“Amber!” Opal whined.

“Opal, just chill for a moment and… stop moving, will ya’?” I told her through gritted teeth as she squirmed in my lap.

“Hey,” Beck said, out of breath, eyes catching the light from the sun.

“Hi,” I replied, not looking at him for very long as I finally got the cap pulled securely over Opal’s maple colored tresses. “Yes!” I grinned triumphantly as she scrambled out of my lap and raced toward the water, without thanking me. I pouted. “I conquered the cap… and Opal’s mane of hair. And I don’t even get a thank you?”

“She just wants to get in the water,” Beck laughed.

“Some sister she is,” I frowned, packing up all of Opal’s discarded things.

“She’s pretty good at swimming for a five year old,” he commented offhandedly.

I pushed a bottle of waterproof sunscreen into Opal’s bag and looked out at the sparkling water where she was frolicking with a ginger headed little kid. “Yeah, well, we live in Starbuck. Every kid here knows how to swim. If you don’t get swimming lessons; the kids push you off the pier during gym. No big deal,” I shrugged.

Both of us were silent as we watched the little kids form a long line in the water, stretching their arms out on their paddleboards and adjusting their goggles.

“Come on Amber,” Beck said after a moment, as he held out a hand and stood up. “Let’s go up to the tree.’

I took the offered hand and let him pull me up off the ground. I turned to pick up Opal’s bag and followed him up the shore. It was funny how much time we spent under the peach tree, but it was the one place I’d felt most comfortable since I was a kid. Having someone to share it with was pretty cool too.

“Hey Beck!” someone yelled, and even though the voice was distant, it startled me.

The voice was obviously male, it was too deep and testosterone filled for it to be a girl, and its manly timbre echoed around the park. Beck turned toward the speaker and my eyes followed his gaze.

Some guys hanging out on BMX bikes and lazing on skateboards stood close to the play park. I recognized some of them by features—they went to school with me. The others, I didn’t know, but I felt myself tense up, a symptom of my shy condition.

“Hey Asher,” Beck grinned widely, waving at them and walking over to the group of males.

I lagged behind, clutching the straps of Opal’s bag like a safety raft.

The guy called Asher was pretty beefy, with shoulder length dirty blond hair and hooded eyes. He had a bit of scruff on his chin that made him look more like a man than a seventeen year old. Something clicked with me upon seeing his face. With the longer hair, 5 o’clock shadow, larger muscles and deep voice, I almost didn’t recognize him.

Asher St. Vincent, full back on the football team, one of the guys I’d always been scared of. He had this… air about him that made people instinctively back away. I found it pretty strange that Beck was associating himself with him.